


Passing Time

by kingsship



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Cthulhu au, Gen, HELLO it's me, duncan isn't name dropped but He's There, n e ways., pls read nd enjoy!!, the only one posting yogs fics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:01:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21827152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingsship/pseuds/kingsship
Summary: Three years ago, Lewis bolted upright in his bed, suddenly awake after having a very strange dream.
Kudos: 2





	Passing Time

**Author's Note:**

> HALT!!! before reading this fic, pls check out [this post](https://yoggin-and-bloggin.tumblr.com/post/189242655563/hey-howdy-kickin-this-blog-off-w-an-au-3-this-is) abt it on my yogblog (nd maybe follow it ;3c)

Three years ago, Lewis bolted upright in his bed, suddenly awake after having a very strange dream. The details were quickly slipping away from him, so he snatched up the notebook and pen on his bedside table. He scribbled down what he could remember, praying that he’d be able to decipher what he wrote in the morning. 

Thankfully, after falling back asleep (and having another strange dream) and waking up with the sunrise, Lewis picked up his notebook and was glad to see that he was able to read his notes about the dream he had. He was thinking of just forgetting about the dream, and the notes, but decided against it. After going about his normal morning routine, Lewis sat down to write.

Two years ago, Lewis once again bolted upright in bed. But, instead of feeling confused about the dream he had, he was breathing heavily, and sweating hard. Hands shaking, he had poured himself a glass of gin from the bottle on his bedside table, and knocked it back with ease. After a few deep breaths, and letting the drink soothe his nerves somewhat, he had picked up his notebook and pen again to scribble about what he had seen.

Horrors beyond compare, the vastness of their universe and all those unknown had been forced into Lewis’ brain. Strange chanting in a language long dead, drilled into his head until he could repeat them verbatim. Huge shapes looming over him, bearing their teeth and laughing as he cowered before them. Things were getting hard to handle.

One year ago, things went south very quickly. No one had seen Lewis in months. His editors were getting impatient, looking for his next piece. His friends were growing more and more worried by the day, not knowing what had become of him. Then, one of them bit the bullet and had broken into Lewis’ house, only to find it a wreck. Papers were tacked to the walls, some paired with scribbled drawings of old gods, strange symbols, or labeled. 

They had found Lewis in his office, muttering nonsense to himself while scribbling out more notes. When his friend had tried to ask him what was happening, he had attacked them. He hadn’t done much damage, due to being weak from malnutrition and poor sleep, but that had been the breaking point. Deemed unfit to make decisions for himself, he had been shipped off to an asylum for his own good.

Eight months ago, Lewis’ mania had been as bad as it ever was. Constantly rambling to himself and the doctors around him, having to be force-fed, and all around making almost no progress in his recovery. It was sad, to say the least.

But, in a cavern deep below the town, someone became aware of him.

Six months ago, a previously prestigious author and poet had gone missing, stolen from a hospital that he had been admitted to several weeks ago. Police are still looking for him, and condolences are sent out to his family and friends. They promise to look for him to the best of their abilities.

Four months ago, Lewis “Xephos” ████████ was declared dead. A small memorial was held for him, his family and friends in attendance. He will be missed quite a lot, a dear son and friend to many. He always had a brilliant mind, and was incredibly passionate about things he set his mind to. It’s always a shame seeing young minds go sour, and pass.

Three months ago, someone closely resembling the late Lewis ████████ had seen leaving general store late one evening, in a small down in seaside English town. But it most likely wasn’t Lewis. There are plenty of brown haired men in England.

Two months ago, someone closely resembling the late Lewis ████████ was nearly caught stealing old, crumbling scrolls from a museum. But it couldn’t have been him. He wasn’t caught. No one can prove anything. But that matters far less than the items that were stolen. Not to the museum, of course. No, they’re important to a very small group of people. A group with a very important job to complete. 

One month ago, a very eccentric doctor moved into the town, accompanied by his friend and assistant. They claimed that they were going to uncover all the town’s mysteries, and solve the multiple missing persons cases from months ago. The residents that are left silently wish them luck, and wish that they give up. They know what happens to people who ask too many questions.

Three weeks ago, a small lab had finished construction on the coast. The strange doctor had wanted it so he could have a safe place to keep his research. He still asked too many questions, if you asked the townsfolk.

Two weeks ago, the doctor’s assistant had gone missing. It had obviously hit the doctor hard, as they had also been quite close friends. He threw himself into his work. He claimed to have trustworthy contacts who were feeding him information. The town pitied him. They hoped he live to see things that weren't’ this town.

One week ago, the doctor was seen with someone who closely resembled the late Lewis ████████. No one paid any mind, though. It wasn’t their business, no sir. They did hold out hope for the doctor’s new friend, though. He’d need it, being friends with that man.

Six days ago, an explosion was heard by the coast, at the approximate location of the doctor’s lab. When police arrived at the scene in the morning, the place had been almost completely burnt to the ground. Thankfully, the place had been deserted, as the doctor was with his new friend. The police suspected arson, and are investigating possible suspects. Unfortunately, very little had been saved from being destroyed by the flames.

Five days ago, the doctor was seen walking about town, running errands. While that had been strange, what was more curious was the figure following him. They hadn’t been close enough to be noticed by the doctor, but those around him had definitely noticed.

Four days ago, the doctor had been followed again, this time to a few bookstores, and other shops in town. This time, however, the doctor seemed to be aware that someone was following him. He kept glancing over his shoulder and muttering to himself.

Three days ago, and the doctor hasn’t been seen at all. Some townsfolk were worried. They quite liked him, bizarre as he had been.

Two days ago, the police were no closer to finding out about what had happened to the doctor, or his lab, even with their leads.

Yesterday, the doctor’s body was found, bloodied and broken on the shore by his lab. A small funeral was hastily pulled together, and held for him by the town.

Today, the old gods are stirring.

Tomorrow, they will rise.


End file.
